Progressing through Lent: the pursuit of knowledge

Last week, we began examining the book of Ecclesiastes or Qoheleth, a book that is part of the wisdom literature in the Old Testament. Qoheleth, whom Scripture scholars have called the philosopher, teacher or preacher, is the main character speaking to the reader.

At the beginning of Lent, I started using this text for Lectio Divina. A common question my reading has raised is: What are you saying to me/us, God, through this text? No clear answers have emerged. It can feel a bit heavy and dizzying, at times, but I believe it is worth persevering through.

Notions of worry, fear, weariness and anxiety form some of the tropes of this puzzling and joyful text. Here is a provocative comment from the philosopher from chapter one: “The wiser you are, the more worries you have; the more you know, the more it hurts.” What do we do with this? First, we take it seriously. Seeking wisdom and knowledge is not a benign affair; it comes with risks and vulnerabilities. You will not find these kinds of sentences in a Hallmark card. Second, why does an increase of wisdom lead to more worries, and an increase of knowledge to more hurts? Qoheleth is deconstructing the wisdom tradition with these words. The book of Proverbs would not say wisdom leads to worry, and knowledge to hurt, but that it rather leads to peace and happiness. Qoheleth, then, is redescribing wisdom based on his own experiences.

It might be helpful to make a connection here to the notion of irony in the work of the late American pragmatist philosopher Richard Rorty. In Contingency, Irony and Solidarity he develops the notion of an ironist who has doubts about their descriptions of self and world. They realize that the language they deploy, the words they use, are historically contingent and cannot stand outside of that contingency. In other words, there is no final vocabulary or language that one can use. Perhaps we can say that Qoheleth is an ironist in that he finds the language and vocabulary of Proverbs to not be the final word on wisdom due to the transience of life. The fact that book of Ecclesiastes made the cut for the biblical canon seems to support this—even though its redescriptions of life and wisdom appear bleak and austere in comparison Church fathers and councils kept this text it.

How might we integrate into our lives the possibility that the pursuit of wisdom and knowledge can lead to worry and hurt? First, try being an ironist. Examine the words you use and the language you deploy. Are they helpful? What benefit do they provide? Can they assist with staying open to change and the viewpoints of others or do they lock lived reality in a locker? Be willing to tweak and adjust your words at times.

Second, know that being an ironist-oriented pursuer of wisdom and knowledge will involve some worry and pain. Inheriting the language of a tradition needs to be further developed because new realities might be overlooked.This process of further developing a tradition can lead to conflict and discordance. Qoheleth had to speak to a different set of experiences that did not line up with an older wisdom tradition. As a particular tradition reveals its limits, this can be worrisome and painful. Being an ironist can be both a lamentation and a joy as one attempts to redescribe situations and experiences that contribute less hurt and more inclusivity.